


Continuum

by shinigami714



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst, Anxiety, Dissociation, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-09 18:03:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8906350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinigami714/pseuds/shinigami714
Summary: All of the dwarves are left with scars after the battle for Erebor. Kili's scars may not be outwardly visible, but they are no less present, and Fili is there for him whenever they decide to make themselves known.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For day 5 of the 12 Days of Christmas! The day's not over until I go to bed! :D

Fíli grunted as his body slid to the side, swords crossing in front of his chest to block an attack from the dwarf across from him.  A loud clang rang out in the training area and Fíli chuckled lightly at the surprised look on Thorin’s face.  There was a barely visible grin there too, one that made itself known more often than not in the days of late. 

“I hate to admit it, but I’m not as quick as I used to be,” Thorin sighed, lowering his sword.  Fíli smirked and wiped his sweaty brow with a sleeve before holstering his weapons.  It was true, there were signs of the passing years in his uncle’s appearance. In the weeks after the battle the older dwarf had aged more rapidly than ever before, grey streaks beginning to overtake his dark hair and wrinkles emerging on his face.  He wasn’t old for a dwarf, not yet, but the stress of their journey and wounds from fighting off the orcs had certainly taken its toll.

None of the members of the company were the same anymore to be honest.  Most of them had visible scars at the very least, Bofur had even lost the ability to see out of his left eye, though it hadn’t altered his cheery demeanour in any way.  Fíli had a permanent limp, the remnant of a close encounter with a warg.  He was lucky to still have his leg at all.  And he was grateful for that, grateful that the entire company had somehow made it through such horrors and lived to tell the tale.

Kíli was one of the few who hardly suffered any physical injuries, thank the gods, though Fíli feared the damage to his mind was quite extensive.  His brother was…well he’d always had a bit of a problem connecting to reality.  Even as a child.  Back in the Blue Mountains Kíli often sat for hours staring off into space, mentally playing in a world far more fantastical than the one he was born into.  He’d speak of the wonderful adventures he had, with the friends he created out of seemingly nowhere. 

They all had faces, different personalities, with backstories so detailed Fíli could have sworn they were real.  Until one day he realized some of them were, in a way.   It had taken him a while to connect the dots.  Quite often the little characters in his brother’s fantasies were similar to the animals they might find out in the woods.  It wasn’t hard to imagine they were just the whimsical thoughts of a very imaginative boy.  But as Kíli grew older, the characters remained.  In fact they multiplied, and appeared more often than ever.  They had names of course, and they spoke to him and did things normal animals wouldn’t, but they were clearly derived from reality in some way.  Nearly every day there was a new one, and eventually Fíli realised they were rather similar to the specific animals the two would hunt in the woods.

There would be a rabbit like character the morning after their mother cooked up a stew, or a deer the day after they dragged one in from the hunt.  Birds and squirrels made appearances as well.  But they were all carefully crafted, intricately described, like the other dwarf knew these animals, had run alongside them for years in the woods.  It was horrifying to discover that anything Kíli’s arrows touched ended up reappearing in his imaginary world.     

And when Fíli said anything, he meant it. 

Orcs, goblins, wargs, the odd errant vagrant or two that he’d killed by accident while defending himself.  All of them existed in his world.  The more Kíli fought, the larger in size his imaginary universe became, the more detailed and precise, and the more mental strength it took to keep intact, until sometimes Fíli wondered if the brunet spent more time dreaming than awake.    It was getting harder and harder to bring him back with each passing day.

It wasn’t healthy.  Fíli knew that.  But there was little he could do. 

The battle for Erebor had done nothing but cause further harm to his brother’s soul.  Nightmares plagued him, and while awake, memories haunted him.  His imagination acted as an escape, a way of coping with loss and the idea of killing.  His dream world was grand, it allowed him to have the greatest of adventures in his own backyard without taking a single step, and alongside all those he’d been forced to kill.  But it was so compelling for the younger dwarf that sometimes he was unable to distinguish reality from fantasy. 

Fíli sighed and let his head fall back as he sheathed his blades.  Thorin was already removing his heavy combat gear, stretching out the muscles that had cramped while they sparred.  It was about time for Fíli to do his leg exercises as well.

It was quiet in the training area at such an early time of day as most of the other dwarves in the mountain relished in a later start.  So Fíli heard the quick scuffing of boots long before another dwarf set foot into the large room, and he was already facing the entrance with a subtle frown as scruffy hair appeared atop a freckled face.   

“Fíli,” Ori began, his eyes open wide, revealing the worry he felt inside.  The tiny dwarf was out of breath, as though he’d run across the entire mountain to get there.

“He needs you,” the scribe whispered and Fíli tensed his jaw and hurried towards him, following the other dwarf without a second thought.  Thorin waved him off, looking concerned and weary.  They would talk later, and Fíli would reassure his uncle he wasn’t to blame, but first he had to be there for his brother.  The two dwarves walked briskly through the map of hallways, or at least as well as they could with Fíli’s limp.  Not for the first time the blond cursed his injury, but he pushed on until Ori led him into one of the workshops in the Eastern quarter.  Kíli sat huddled in a corner, beneath a table and wedged between two boxes full of supplies.  His eyes were open, but glazed over, and he stared listlessly ahead, his shoulders limp and head tilted slightly to the right.  It was a wonder Ori had found him at all, though the other dwarf had always been able to sense when those he cared for needed aid. 

“How long has he been like this?” Fíli asked, bending low to peer at his brother’s face.  Ori clasped his fingers together tightly and rocked forwards on his feet in an anxious way. 

“I’m not sure.  He was already like this when I got here.  I tried to wake him, but…,” Ori paused, his head turning away as he nibbled on his lip.  He hated not being able to help his friends, but everyone knew it was nearly impossible to awaken Kíli from his dream state.  Fíli was the only one able to, and much of the time it was a matter of waiting for the brunet to come back on his own. Fíli smiled at the scribe kindly and rested a hand against his elbow.

“It’s okay Ori, thank you,” he said, and Ori nodded before leaving the two brothers alone.  At the sound of the door closing Fíli shimmied beneath the table, scooting as close as he was able with the boxes and his brother’s legs in the way.  He could see the heavy crease between Kíli’s eyebrows, like he had been overthinking and straining to keep himself under control.  It was likely what led the brunet to find solace somewhere else.  A wave in front of the younger dwarf’s face provided no reaction, and Kíli’s eyes remained unfocused and locked on a distant place ahead.  Fíli pursed his lips and leaned in closer.   

“Kíli?” he spoke softly, gently touching his brother’s cheek.  Still there was no response.  Fíli slid his thumb beneath Kíli’s eye, rubbing gently at the top of the other dwarf’s cheek bone.  His nail caught on dark eyelashes, and then there was a tiny flicker of movement, a single blink, though the hazy look remained.

“Come back to me love,” Fíli whispered, and then he pressed a kiss to Kíli’s cheek and pushed the hair away from the brunet’s brow.  Kíli blinked a few more times before taking a deep breath, and then he was turning towards Fíli with sleepy eyes.

“There you are,” Fíli murmured, the relief apparent in his expression.  The blond tucked a few stray hairs behind Kíli’s ear as brown eyes met his gaze.  Fíli waited silently for a few minutes while Kíli found his bearings. 

“Where were you this time?” Fíli asked.  Kíli stared at him then turned away, his mouth tightening in a frown.

“Kíli?” Fíli tried again, but the other dwarf just shook his head and pulled his knees up against his chest.  He looked like a lost child.  The brunet’s fingers tightened in the fabric around his knees and he hid his face between his legs, clearly not yet ready to face the world again. But Fíli couldn’t let that happen.  If he was left to fester with such obviously dark thoughts, Kíli would wind up right back where he was, caught in his own mind for hours.   Fíli shifted beneath the table, sitting right in front of the other dwarf, and then he pried his brother’s grip apart and tugged him close, practically into his lap.

 “Talk to me brother, tell me where you were,” he insisted, bending low so he could peer into dark eyes.  Kíli grimaced, but this time he didn’t look elsewhere.

“Just…away,” Kíli uttered.  He opened his mouth once before closing it and taking a moment to think.  It was too serious an expression for the other dwarf, though one Fíli had seen more often than not since the battle.  It didn’t suit him at all.  Fíli wanted to see him smiling, always smiling.

“I had a nightmare last night,” Kíli began, and the blond nodded and squeezed his brother’s hands to reassure him.

“I was at…the gates,” he continued.  Fíli frowned but forced a grin onto his face.

“Not planning on dying anytime soon are you?” the blond teased, and Kíli’s eyes widened and he shook his head quickly.  The reaction comforted Fíli, but it was still worrisome that his brother saw his own passing coming in his dreams.  All dwarves faced the great gates upon their death, greeted by Mahal who guided them to the Halls of Awaiting.  It was nothing to fret over, not for a dwarf that lived an honest life.  Kíli certainly had nothing to worry about. 

“No. No I- I just wonder sometimes, what will greet me there,” Kíli mentioned.  There was definitely more to it than that.  Fíli could see the wariness in his brother’s eyes.  But Kíli was talking, and that was a good sign. 

“Us you mean,” Fíli commented, and he received a shaky smile in return.  Kíli seemed like he wasn’t going to elaborate any further, but the blond simply waited patiently, allowing his brother to speak when ready. 

“Father was there,” the brunet muttered after a lengthy period of time.  Fíli held his breath and ran his thumbs across the other dwarf’s knuckles in soothing circles.

“At first…I was happy, but then…he looked so angry, and he spoke to me, reminded me of all the times I’ve failed,” Kíli blurted.

“He was so disappointed in me,” the brunet lamented.  Fíli was so surprised he froze, his thumbs lingering in place as his grip loosened around the other dwarf’s fingers.

“What on earth are you talking about?  He would never be disappointed in you.  He loved you, and you are wonderful and more deserving than any dwarf I know,” Fíli insisted.  Kíli gaped at him and pouted slightly, eyeing him suspiciously.

“He wouldn’t let me cross through,” Kíli mentioned.  His eyes shifted off to the side, and his brow furrowed as he worried his lip.  The brunet looked so consumed by anxiety that Fíli wanted to cry and hold him forever, never let go if he must.  Before the older dwarf could say a word Kíli was already speaking again, his thoughts coming out in quick gasps of air as he rushed to say them all at once.

“What if we get there, and they don’t want me? What if it’s just you that gets to cross through? What if…what if I have to watch your back as you…” Kíli’s staggered and his voice hitched.  He pulled a hand away to wipe at his nose, and hid his face as his eyes became wet with unshed tears.  It made Fíli’s heart ache for his brother.

“Kíli, I would never leave you,” the blond ensured him.

“Never,” he said again, just to make sure Kíli heard him clearly.

“You have nothing to fear if I do, because that can only mean you’re in a dream. You will wake up, and I will be at your side, like always.  Besides, if one of us were to get turned away, it would surely be me,” Fíli said, and Kíli jolted and gaped at him, clearly affronted by the notion that the blond could ever get denied access to the Halls.  Fíli almost wanted to laugh.  He felt the exact same way about his brother.  

“You are the pure soul, your heart is light as a feather,” Fíli spoke, and he tightened his grip again, clenching Kíli’s fingers between his own.

“These hands…have picked wildflowers from the fields, they’ve rescued insects from certain death in puddles after a day of rain. Birds have landed here and sung their songs without a hint of fear.” Fíli voiced, and then he kissed the brunet’s fingers and sighed wistfully. “I’m the one that should be afraid.  I am just another warrior with far too much blood on my hands.”

“I’ve killed just the same as you,” Kíli argued, though it was weak and they both knew it.  Fíli smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners and he could see the brunet’s serious expression wavering.

“No, not the same. Because every death affects you, even those you kill to survive,” Fíli said. “I’ve seen your eyes after a kill.  The way you memorize faces, features, the nuances in a beast’s fur.  If you were an artist I have no doubt your renditions would not lack a single detail.   But you’re not.  You’re a dreamer.”

Fíli touched the other dwarf’s forehead, just between his eyebrows.  He could feel Kíli’s soft breaths against his palm and the brush of eyelashes against his fingers.

“You take them all, you keep them here,” Fíli spoke softly. “Locked away in your mind so you can bring them to life in a new and better world.”

Kíli closed his eyes as Fíli drew his hand away, and when he opened them he stared down into his lap.

“It’s not a better world…it’s just different,” Kíli murmured. “I’m sorry.”

“You have no reason to be sorry,” the Fíli said, and he frowned and tilted his head to the side.

“I’m always…off somewhere else, I know it worries you,” Kíli uttered.  He didn’t look up again until Fíli touched beneath his chin.

“It does, but only because I wonder sometimes if you won’t come back to me,” Fíli admitted.  Kíli gaped at him in surprise.

“I’ll always come back to you,” Kíli claimed and Fíli smiled at the brunet before leaning forward.  They shared a kiss, gentle and sweet.  Just long enough to bring a healthy flush to both of their faces.  The two dwarves took a moment to breathe, leaning against one another before moving back in for more.  Kíli’s lips were cool to the touch, but they warmed quickly, and his back shifted as Fíli pressed him up against the wall. The boxes were easily pushed to the side as they deepened the kiss.  Each breath of air against skin was exhilarating, each touch like butterflies dancing across their bodies.  Fíli dragged his fingers beneath the brunet’s ear, tickling at the loose hairs and stroking the younger dwarf’s jawline.   As he nipped lightly at the lips pressed against his own, Kíli’s head knocked against the table and their lips finally fell apart.  The brunet rubbed at the top of his skull with a groan before smiling shyly and ducking his head.

Fíli chuckled and they shuffled out from beneath Kíli’s hiding place, with red faces and in much better spirits than before.  Kíli looked positively alive, and Fíli adored the gleam in his eyes.  It proved the brunet was truly with him in this world instead of huddled away in an imaginary place only he could see. 

“Father would be proud of you,” Fíli mentioned as he helped his brother to his feet. 

“How do you know?” Kíli asked.  He took a moment to wipe off his tunic, dust flying out from the fabric. Fíli watched the brunet fondly before running his fingers down the embroidery lining the other dwarf’s chest.

“Because _I’m_ proud of you,” Fíli said.  He pulled the brunet in for another kiss, shorter in length this time, and then gripped the back of his head firmly, holding Kíli close.

“You know what I think?” Fíli began, meeting Kíli’s gaze briefly before pressing his nose into the dark hairs at his brother’s temple.

“What?” Kíli breathed against the blond’s neck. 

“He wouldn’t let you cross, because it’s not your time. He was just trying to keep you away, keep you from leaving me,” Fíli explained.  “If there’s one thing he wouldn’t approve of, it is us not showing up side by side, to greet him together.”

Kíli snorted against him, and pulled away.  It was refreshing to see the other dwarf’s eyes looking much less haunted than before.  The crease was all but gone from his brow and Fíli grinned at the sight.  Kíli nudged him playfully and linked their arms before leading Fíli back into the hallways beneath the mountain. It wasn’t long before Kíli was chastising the blond for neglecting his exercises, emulating their mother in a way no one else could.  Fíli rolled his eyes and pretended to be annoyed, but deep down, he was grateful for that too. 


End file.
